The Hoobastank Conspiracy Arc 3: Pieces
by Kentra02
Summary: Duo flees to escape the truth, but only has one place to run... to the past.
1. 1

Title: The Hoobastank Conspiracy Arc #3: Pieces: Part One  
  
Author: Kentra Shinataku  
  
Anime: Gundam Wing  
  
Rating: PG-13/NC-17  
  
Pairings: 5x2, 2x3x2; mentions of past 1x3 & 1x2  
  
Warnings: Angst, mentions of NCS, Sap, lemon, Heero bastardization, language, post-war setting, abuse  
  
Category: Angst  
  
Spoilers: No  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.. at least not Gundam Wing or any of Hoobastank's songs.  
  
Summary: Duo flees to escape the truth, but only has one place to run... to the past.  
  
Notes: Each song in this arc is supposed to be a songfic from the Hoobastank CD, but this one was more based off of the sound/feel of the music, and not so much the words (though they did have a big part) so this isn't really a songfic. It's just sort of based from the music (Hoobastank, Track #4, Pieces).  
  
**********  
  
The Hoobastank Conspiracy Arc #3  
  
Pieces: Part One  
  
He woke without opening his eyes, feeling the darkness pressing against his skin and his closed eyelids. No light was washing in from the window, meaning it was still very early morning. Had the previous night been a dream, could he have been so lucky to avoid a real situation with only a nightmare lingering behind?  
  
One eye opened, slowly taking in the darkness of the living room. He was still leaning across Wufei's shoulder where he had fallen asleep in the nightmare of last night. So it had been real. That encounter... Wufei knew, Wufei heard the whole story.  
  
Both Duo's eyes shot open, suddenly fully aware of his situation, his very _vulnerable_ situation. Taking one look at Wufei, he removed himself from his peacefully sleeping fiancé and gave himself a shake. He had told Wufei. He knew. He saw. He... It was enough to push _anybody_ away, knowing what Heero had done to him. Wufei would be upset with him, no matter what he had spoken in reassurance. He had to get out of there, had to leave before Wufei woke. But where could he go?  
  
Duo dashed from the room, throwing aside his natural, feline grace to be taken by panic, ramming his knee into a table and hip into the banister on his way up the staircase.  
  
For a few minutes, he had no destination, but he stopped as he passed the upstairs vidphone. He knew just who he needed to call. Someone who understood, who shared in what he had gone through. Trowa.  
  
'But..'  
  
'Shut up,' his inner demon scolded, 'just dial the damn phone.'  
  
Before he knew what was happening, a tired, but calm image of Trowa was splayed on the vidscreen before him. His eyes wide and hands groping loose strands of hair anxiously, Duo spoke, aware of the heightened octaves his tone was taking.  
  
"Trowa, are you still with Heero?"  
  
No. Duo, what's going on?  
  
"I need somewhere to go, I need to go, now. I can explain when I get there," Duo chattered. Trowa nodded, speaking quietly in comfort while Duo scribbled directions onto the palm of hand, beginning to feel tremors run through his spine as he did so.   
  
It's okay. I know what you're going through.  
  
Duo vaguely heard the last words Trowa had spoken before he ran to grab his emergency duffel bag from his closet. Funny that though the war was over and there wasn't much expectation for an immediate evacuation, he couldn't get rid of his soldiers' habits. He dug his car keys from the top drawer and dropped them twice on the way back down the stairway, grasping them again with trembling fingers.  
  
Starting towards the door, he peered over his shoulder at his fiancé. Only once had he left him like this. He had had to leave for a mission, and though it was the unavoidable fate of soldiers, he hadn't even bothered to say goodbye. Wufei was upset that he hadn't waken him. Did he really want to make the same mistake twice, to stab him in the wound that might still be bleeding? No. No matter what, he still loved Wufei. He always would.  
  
He dropped his light duffel bag noiselessly on the wooded floor, grabbing a pen and paper from the kitchen counter. Searching his mind for the little Chinese he had picked up during their time together, he balanced the pen in his shaking fingers and began constructing the pinyin strokes to form 'wo ai ni'. He knew that it was most likely incorrect, but Wufei would be able to decipher his sloppy strokes, reading them as they were intended. That's just how he was.  
  
Leaving the kitchen, his bare feet padding over the dark carpeted floor of the living room, he slowly persuaded the paper between his lover's fingers. Wufei didn't even shift in his sleep. Duo's panic leapt, soaring to a high he couldn't control, and he backed up into the coffee table, surprisingly not knocking anything over.  
  
On his way from the door, he briefly toyed with the idea of flicking on a light to grab Wufei's attention when he woke, but when he flipped the switch, the lights remained dark in their sockets. The vidphone lines must have recommenced but the general power was still out, he realized; even the street lights outside were dull and unlit. Wufei would find the scrawled note, that would be enough. It had to be. Without a glance back, Duo closed the door behind him, walking away from this life, sinking away from all of the answers.  
  
He didn't even realize that he had forgotten his shoes until he had backed the car out of the driveway. It didn't matter though, he couldn't go back now to retrieve them. Besides, he probably had a spare set in his duffel bag.  
  
Duo drove aimlessly, not paying any mind to the scribbles on his palm. He turned down random roads, heading only in the vague direction of Trowa's home as if blind emotion, blind _need_ would guide him on it's own. If anybody understood what Heero had done to him, it was Trowa.   
  
His speedometer was reaching levels that the lonely side roads had likely never seen, but he didn't care, everything had started to blur, anyways. If he had never been to Trowa's before, he would have been very lost, but he had taken these roads once before, the last time he'd had to endure Heero. Well, not quite the _same_ roads, because last time he had traveled mainstream and Trowa had driven.   
  
Duo hadn't known then, that Trowa and Heero were together, and had a rather unpleasant welcome. However, much to his surprise, Trowa hadn't seemed thrilled with his supposed lover's presence, either. When Duo had a moment alone with Trowa, he had to find out what was going on.  
  
~/"Trowa?" he called quietly down the hallway, "Can I talk to you?"  
  
"I'm busy, can it wait?" Trowa's voice returned, unsteady and hesitant. Duo followed the voice into the entrance of the bathroom. Placing a hand lightly against the cracked door frame, he let Trowa's barely concealed body consume his thoughts.  
  
"No, actually it can't."  
  
He stared, unashamed, at the thin boy's boxer clad body. It was covered in bruises. There were cuts just above the rifts of his hip bones, distinct crests severed by fingernails. Trowa realized the special attention Duo was showing to his markings and seemed to cringe. Or maybe Duo was seeing things.  
  
"I don't want you to see me like this," Trowa muttered, embarrassed.  
  
"Heero did this to you?" Duo asked, ignoring the disconcerted look hovering about Trowa. Trowa's eyes sharpened like a dagger, but he offered a short nod.  
  
"So, I guess he'll never really love any of us, huh?" Duo continued, pulling off his own black t-shirt to show him the scars that Heero had bestowed upon his own battered body. Of course, there were quite a few inflicted by the war, but battle injuries don't often leave marks the shape of fingernails.  
  
Duo studied the other boy's bruises and cuts, ones that were so familiar that Duo could feel them on his own skin. The way that the bruises decorated his body was such a memorable pattern, there was no doubt in Duo's mind that it had been Heero to paint this pain. Duo inched nearer to Trowa, showing each other what only they as Heero's prey could understand.  
  
The braided boy extended a quivering hand, and to his astonishment, Trowa didn't withdraw when he ran his fingers over a slash at the base of his ribs.  
  
"Did he use his-?"  
  
"Yes," Trowa responded before Duo could utter the word 'knife'.  
  
Duo nodded in understanding, turning so that his companion could inspect the similar marks on his shoulders and the foot of his back. Trowa surprised both Duo and himself by smoothing his nimble fingertips over the pale streaks of slightly raised skin just above his hip.  
  
"How touching," a harsh voice barked from outside the small bathroom, "my two _playthings_ want a turn with each other. Trowa, I want to see you claim his worthless ass."/~  
  
Duo slowed the car to a semi-legal speed, searching the area for just the right street to turn down. He was, honestly, very lost, but he could figure it out. Trowa had given him directions, after all. Releasing the steering wheel with his left hand, he peered down at his palm, only to find that in his fervor, the directions had sweat off in the friction between his hand and the wheel. With a sigh, he pulled the car over and retrieved his cell phone from his pocket. He flipped out the voice panel and the miniature vidscreen panel, pressing 'm3' as he threw himself against his seat with a thump.  
  
Trowa flickered onto the screen and stared soberly at Duo.  
  
"Where the fuck am I, Tro?" Duo held the phone so that Trowa could see the street and his surroundings. When he brought the phone back so that he could see Trowa's face, he noticed the ashen circles seated beneath his eyes.   
  
"Keep going down the street you are, turn left at Verdes Street. Drive down that way about two minutes and you should recognize where you are. My address is 16 Midori Ave. Calm down a little, Heero isn't here." Duo nodded, dumbstruck that Trowa could read him so well.  
  
"See you soon," he said, disconnecting the call.  
  
Duo started down the road again, slower now that his destination had been determined. However, the lack of speed was leaving room in the spaces his adrenaline had occupied, drowning him with his nervous heartbeat and trembling hands.  
  
As he edged his was onto Verdes Street, a sudden realization hit him. He had definitely traveled this same street before. All of the little restaurants and knick knack shops lined this street, even the one that he had puked out front of after too many drinks.  
  
Absently, he slowed the car more as he neared Midori Ave. That feeling was inside him again, the one he hated, that dragged him down no matter how hard he tried to stay afloat. Fear, an emotion that caused only itself, that forced it's victim to choke and suffocate.  
  
He tried to convince himself that he needed this. Of course he did. Trowa knew what it was like to be just another pawn in a wild game, just a worthless broken toy. Wufei had never experienced-- wouldn't be able to fathom what their minds and bodies had gone through at that time. He was doing the right thing, right?  
  
Wrong.  
  
He loved Wufei, loved him more than he could express with words or actions, yet he had walked out, left him alone on the couch with nothing but three words inscribed on a scrap of paper. Three words swimming in a sea of hurt and apology.  
  
Wufei would be awake by now, judging by the fact that the sun had risen. He didn't know the time for sure; the car clock was broken and permanently stuck on 6:52 p.m. What would Wufei be thinking now?  
  
'Well,' Duo thought ruefully, 'if he wasn't already pissed at me from everything I said last night, he'll really hate me now.'  
  
He couldn't lose the person he loved to an onslaught of ridiculous memories, Flicking his cell phone open, his fingers danced rapidly over the keypad. He neglected to open the mini screen, too ashamed of what he would see in Wufei's eyes, as the line began to ring.  
  
**********  
  
Duo: ...  
  
Kentra: What?  
  
Wufei: You were right when you told me not to get used to the sap that was in the last story of this arc.  
  
Kentra: Yep.  
  
Heero: And you _still_ haven't told my side of the story, you're just making me look worse.  
  
Kentra: Well, I gotta do what I gotta do. ::shrugs::  
  
Duo: But...  
  
Kentra: Hm?  
  
Duo: ::sighs:: Just go write Part 2.  
  
********** 


	2. 2

Author: Kentra Shinataku  
  
Anime: Gundam Wing  
  
Rating: PG-13/NC-17  
  
Pairings: 2+5, 2x3x2; mentions of past 1x3 & 1x2  
  
Warnings: Angst, mentions of NCS, Sap, lemon, Heero bastardization,   
  
language, post-war setting, abuse  
  
Category: Angst  
  
Spoilers: No  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.. at least not Gundam Wing or any of   
  
Hoobastank's songs.  
  
Summary: Duo flees to escape the truth, but only had one place to   
  
run... to the past.  
  
Notes: Each song in this arc is supposed to be a songfic from the   
  
Hoobastank CD, but this one was more based off of the sound/feel of   
  
the music, and not so much the words (though they did have a big   
  
part) so this isn't really a songfic. It's just sort of based from   
  
the music (Hoobastank, Track #4, Pieces).  
  
**********  
  
The Hoobastank Conspiracy Arc #3  
  
Pieces: Part Two  
  
The phone rang.   
  
And rang.  
  
And rang.  
  
Duo's heart thudded with anxiety in his chest and the plastic cover of his cell phone was damp and sticky against his palm. He let the phone ring long after he had reached the conclusion that it would not be answered. Where the hell was Wufei? He wasn't a very deep sleeper and would have woken immediately at the ringing of the old fashioned telephone on the end table next to the couch, and even if he had been in the shower, he would have gotten out to answer, probably expecting his fiancé's call.   
  
Unless, of course, he was too upset and angry with Duo that he didn't wish to speak to him, which was Duo's worst fear right now. He had been so stupid to let Wufei know so much. He was such a coward for running away. He was such an asshole to come to Trowa for a shred of acceptance among blind faces.  
  
But it was too late now, he had already made the phone call. Twice. And if not to Trowa, where could he go? He didn't dare go back home, back to Wufei, not yet. Wufei was too upset with him. He wouldn't even answer the phone.  
  
He sat, almost lethargic in the car, leaning back with his knees propped against the steering wheel. What could he do now? What had he already done? He had single-handedly destroyed what was most important in his life, he had snipped the thin, transparent thread he called a lifeline, the one cord that was clinging to his shattered existence. He had fucked up the love he shared with Wufei all too easily.  
  
Suddenly, he felt sick, and his hand flew to his mouth, forcing him to swallow the acid that was rushing upwards from his stomach. 'My god,' he thought with a sick sense of realization, 'what the hell have I done?'  
  
Yet that thought didn't stay his shoeless feet when he stepped from the car and made his way blindly to Trowa's front door, duffle bag in hand. The thought didn't force him to rethink when he pressed the doorbell with the side of his palm. He knew he was making a mistake the entire time, but he just stood dumbly before the door, waiting for Trowa to open it and offer a humble welcome to his home, or some ridiculous shit like that.   
  
Trowa did appear at the door after a moment, slightly more refreshed and awake than he had appeared on the phone, though still obviously in night clothes: grey sweat pants and a wrinkled white t-shirt.  
  
"Sorry for just showing up like this," Duo began nervously, fidgeting as if his body was helpless to the control of his mind.  
  
"It's okay. Really." Trowa punctuated the last word in reassurance and took Duo's duffle bag, setting it on a recliner near the door and indicated for Duo to enter.   
  
"Nice shoes," he commented with a hint of a smile.  
  
Duo, however, wasn't so amused, and walked inside without reply. He had been afraid Trowa would make some sort of demeaning remark about the issue, but now he wasn't sure if it would have been worse than the quiet humor. He didn't need to be reminded of what he had done.  
  
He stopped a few steps past the doorway and stared at the interior of Trowa's house, a place that formerly housed Heero.   
  
Same. Everything was the same as it had been back then, everything down to the way the green and grey plaid afghan was settled not-quite neatly over the back of the couch and a balled up pair of socks peaked out from beneath the rocking chair. Trowa seemed someone who would be as picky as Wufei in the organisation department, but he wasn't, not really. He tried to keep things neat, but it was often a failed attempt. Strangely, the random messiness didn't seem as out of place in the house as it would in his own, if he even had a place to call home anymore. The place was very spacious, even though it didn't look it from the outside.  
  
"Why don't you sit down?" Trowa managed to make the question a polite command, one that Duo couldn't argue with in this mindset. He turned toward Trowa, evident panic blazing violet in his eyes and pressed a hand to the side of his face. Trowa only nodded toward the couch, which Duo sank into in frustration. He leaned forward, pressing his face against his knees, his hands playing with the fringed tail of his braid.  
  
"What am I gonna do, Tro? What the fuck am I gonna do?" he murmured against his legs. The only response was the motion of Trowa sitting down on the cushion besides him. He made sure he wasn't close enough to touch him.  
  
They sat together for some time, Trowa quietly watching Duo's body quiver with breathy sobs. He had begun to tangle his fingers through his braid, his hair being such a comfort to him. He wanted to cry, he was frantic and afraid, but he wouldn't give that release to himself. He wasn't ashamed to cry under Trowa's eyes; it wouldn't be the first time, after all. He and Trowa had already gone through shit together. Tears had been exchanged between them in the past, and hiding them now would be pointless. They could be open with each other. Well, more easily than with anyone else. Just not right now, not right now.  
  
He finally dared a look up at Trowa with glistening indigo eyes, shining with tears that he couldn't yet release.  
  
"I did it, Tro," he whispered, his eyes desperate, pleading, "I told Wufei everything. I fucked up, man," Trowa offered a surprised look, opening his mouth to speak, but Duo quickly added, "Don't worry, I didn't tell him about you. I didn't tell him about us an' what Heero made us..." his voice faltered, allowing Trowa an opportunity to speak.  
  
"I don't know how that feels," Trowa admitted, "I've never had anyone to tell. But... I can imagine how difficult it would be." Duo merely nodded, having so much to say and no idea _what_ to say.  
  
"I'll make you something to eat," Trowa decided, correct in his assumption that his friend hadn't had anything yet, "Come to the kitchen."  
  
Duo shrugged. "Okay." He wasn't particularly hungry, despite skipping breakfast, but he knew how Trowa was; he had to have something to do with his hands. He would be able to converse much easier with something to concentrate on. He was a natural multi-tasker.  
  
Trowa stood and Duo followed him down the wooden arched hallway toward the kitchen. There was a new addition since Duo's previous visit: pictures lining the hallway. There were photographs, mostly of people, but a few of animals or landscapes. The same lion definitely appeared in more than one frame. There were many featuring Duo and Wufei together and a few of Duo and Trowa. Quatre only made an appearance in one frame, joined with Catherine, and Heero didn't seem to be present at all, with good reason. At least, he was thought to be missing until the end of the corridor where a cherry wood frame encased a tape-repaired portrait of Heero, right arm around Trowa and left arm draped carefully about Duo's shoulder. Duo glared as he passed it, developing a sick feeling that Trowa kept it hanging only to taunt himself. He wasn't the greatest at getting rid of the past.   
  
"You can just sit down," Trowa said as they entered the kitchen, indicating the table and chairs, "I'll fix everything."  
  
Duo nodded and took a seat, his heart slowing to a healthier rate. Though he had to wonder if Trowa intended to fix everything meaning breakfast, or if he wanted to fix everything in general.  
  
He leaned the chair on it's two hind legs and gripped the bottom of the table, his palms turned up, listening to the somehow soothing sounds of clattering pans in search of the right ones. Duo leaned far enough so that the tail of his braid tickled the floor behind him. He wasn't surprised to see some dishes in the sink that were stuck with food a few days old and a garbage bag tied next to the already overflowing trash can. Yet somehow, the kitchen still seemed neat and uncluttered. Maybe it was the colour scheme, Duo thought, pastel yellows and creams did that for a room.  
  
The companionable quiet rested softly upon them for a time, allowing Duo to calm as much as he was able and for Trowa to ponder what it would be like if the roles were reversed. By time eggs had begun to sizzle in a greased skillet, Trowa was prepared to pry into Duo's thoughts.  
  
"So what did he say?"  
  
Duo didn't have to ask who he was referring to. "He.. well, you know, I tried to sugar coat it, tried to leave it at just the bruises, but he just pushed farther. He saw right through it."  
  
"But how did he react?" Trowa pressed.  
  
"I- well... he.. he asked me if I even loved him. He was still supportive and all, but... I'm scared of what he's _not_ saying, you know?" Duo's eyes were shimmering still. Trowa paused in his ministrations, not turning to meet the gaze of his friend. Duo's eyes were glued to the ceiling, anyways.  
  
"I would be, too," Trowa whispered, almost inaudibly. Duo ignored it.  
  
"I mean, he actually had to _ask_ me if I loved him. Maybe he was asking because I made _him_ not love me anymore. Maybe he was looking for an excuse to get rid of me."  
  
"Well, you two have a house together," Trowa disputed, "I understand that it's hard to trust anybody now, believe me, I have that problem, too. Why do you think I'm alone? You have a house together," he repeated, "I don't think his love for you would break that easily after creating that bond."  
  
"This house used to belong to you and Heero and look how it is now," argued Duo. Trowa's shoulder blades stiffened visibly.  
  
"That was different. You _know_ why we shared a house."  
  
Duo felt the belated need to apologize after he had managed to turn his friend's tone cold. Of course he knew why they owned a house together; Heero had insisted. Trowa had disapproved of setting down such sturdy roots, he thought an apartment would be a more suitable plan. No, Heero had argued, they couldn't risk an apartment. Of course, Trowa didn't know why until it was too late. He didn't understand, thought it was one of Heero's safety quirks. Even after the war, Heero would still swear everyone and anyone was out to get him. But it wasn't for that reason that he had insisted on a house, at least not entirely. He needed a place with firm walls, a place that escaped the prying ears of the innocents. He needed somewhere where he could take Trowa's consent and shred it to pieces before his lover's eyes. Heero had insisted upon a private residence so that he could have his way with Trowa whenever and however he wanted and never get caught for the damage he caused. As long as he was safe inside these walls, no one would be any wiser.  
  
"I'm sorry, Tro, I know how it is," he muttered with honest remorse, "I just can't help what I say when I'm like this. Sorry."  
  
Trowa didn't feel the need to accept.  
  
"I'm assuming you didn't tell him where you were going." It wasn't a question.  
  
"Remember that time at that safehouse, the shitty little cabin back in the woods? It was just you, me, and Wufei. Remember when I left without telling him goodbye?"  
  
Trowa finally turned his head to face him, an emotion undecipherable piercing through his emerald eyes.  
  
"I did the same thing, I did it again." Duo couldn't keep his voice from cracking mid-sentence.  
  
"You know how much that upset him, Duo."  
  
"I.. left him a note." Thinking back from now, the note seemed rather pointless.  
  
"And what did it say?" Trowa inquired.  
  
There was no reason to tell about his shaking hands or Chinese words or sneaking the paper into his fiancé's fingers. Instead, he simply whispered, "I love you."  
  
********** 


End file.
